


i've always considered you a friend

by johnllauren



Series: my first friend, my enemy [2]
Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, gay founding father angst - the prequel, im sorry @founding fathers, implied sin/mentions of sinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnllauren/pseuds/johnllauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've always considered you a friend

“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?” 

If someone were to ask him which one sentence changed his life forever, the answer would be that one. Because, with that sentence, Alexander Hamilton flung himself into Aaron Burr’s life. He’s young, close to Burr’s age, loud and short (Christ, is he short), but he’s vivacious, passionate, and tenacious. 

Oh. And really fucking beautiful. 

So maybe when Burr asks if he could buy Hamilton a drink, there’s a hint of flirting in his voice. And either Burr’s so far gone that he only hears what he wants to, or maybe Hamilton flirts back. 

By the end of the night, they’re drunkenly draped over each other, sloppily kissing in one of their rooms – Burr isn’t quite sure whose room it is. But they both enjoy every minute of it.

-

After the war officially begins, it gets harder for them to see each other. Burr, after all. Is a lieutenant colonel, and Hamilton is an aide-de-camp to Washington himself. They find time together, they always do. When they do finally see each other though, it doesn’t feel like enough. It’s never enough. A shabby little tent at a camp, Hamilton’s tiny little room at Valley Forge (sans Laurens, Hamilton’s roommate, who just gives them a knowing look and slips out of the room for the night). 

They have to be quiet, they have to be quick. Whispered “I love you”s pressed to each other’s skin. Nobody can hear, nobody can hear or they can be killed. But they manage. Of course they do.

-

“What exactly are you saying, Burr?” Hamilton asks. They’re in closed quarters together and Burr is trying to explain something to Hamilton, which goes about as easily as trying to win this damn war.

“I’m saying that it would be safer if we found ourselves wives. That way there’s no suspicion and we can settle down after the war.” Burr says gently.

Hamilton rolls his eyes. “We have to make this country work after the war, there won’t be any settling down.” He pauses. “Besides, are you trying to break up with me?”

Burr laughs. “I’m not breaking up with you, Hamilton. I just think it would be easier for the both of us.”

“But we’re still – you still – you know, love me?” Hamilton breathes the last two words so they’re lower than a whisper. 

“Of course I love you, Alexander.” Burr says, using Hamilton’s given name, a rare occurrence reserved only for their private moments. “It’s possible to love more than one person at a time, anyway.”

Hamilton nods. He edges closer to Burr and checks to make sure they’re alone in the room before pressing a chaste kiss to Burr’s lips. Burr leans in, waiting for more, but Hamilton pulls away. “Later.” He says, and Burr can’t even tell if he’s being sarcastic (he’s going to take Hamilton up on the offer regardless). 

-

“Alexander?” Burr asks, making his way through a sea of guests at the Schuyler mansion. When he told Hamilton it would be in their best interest to marry women, he didn’t know Hamilton would go right for one of New York’s most affluent families.

“I didn’t think that you would make it.” Hamilton confesses, while his friends look on with various expressions of disgust on their faces.

Originally, Burr wasn’t going to come to the wedding. Why would he want to watch the man he loves get married to another? But then he figured it would be diplomatic to at least show up to the reception and offer Hamilton congratulations. And drink some free alcohol (who’s he kidding _some_ , though, really). 

Hamilton gives him a look that says _I’m sorry_ and Burr nods, saying _I know_. He was, after all, the one who suggested they marry. 

Hamilton’s friends are already drunkenly teasing him, but Burr doesn’t really care. Laurens is saying something about Burr having a hidden girlfriend, something that makes the other two howl. Hamilton pretends he doesn’t know this (he was the first, and only, person Burr told about Theodosia) and shoos his friends away so he can talk to Burr. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” Burr says. “I’m going to do this to you, too. And I must say – the beer here is excellent.”

Hamilton laughs. “I’m glad you find the beer enjoyable.”

“It’s more enjoyable than you are.” Burr smirks.

“If we weren’t in public, I would kiss that smirk right off your face, asshole.”

“I would usually take you up on that offer, but it _is_ your wedding night.” Burr says. 

Hamilton grins.

“Thank you, though, Burr.” He says after a pause.

“What for?”

“You said it was possible to love more than one person at once. And I do love her” he casts a fond gaze in Eliza’s, his bride’s, direction, “as much as I love you.”

Burr smiles, surprised it isn’t fake in the least bit. “Good. I’m happy for you. Congrats again, Hamilton.”

-

The colonies win the war. _They_ win the war. 

Burr doesn’t fight at Yorktown, he’s still absent from the military due to the heatstroke he obtained at Monmouth. Hamilton does, though. He’s finally gotten a commanding position, something he’s wanted for God knows how long. Hamilton stays in Virginia for a little while, working with Washington to develop some sort of peace with the British, but he assures Burr of his plans to come back to New York when everything blows over.

Burr sits in his study rereading a book, probably Voltaire, though he isn’t paying attention to the words. Hamilton hasn’t sent him a letter in a while and they certainly haven’t seem much of each other lately. Damn, he misses Hamilton. 

There’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” he calls to Theodosia, who probably has her hands full with their daughter. Besides, he’ll do anything to move around and let his nervous energy out.

And… it’s Hamilton. 

“Aaron Burr, sir.” He says, a smile playing on his lips.

Burr stands there for a second. “Hamilton?” 

“Who else would it be?” Hamilton asks, flinging his arms around Burr, who teeters backwards and steps inside, closing the door behind them.

“You haven’t been writing me,” Burr informs him, though now that Hamilton is here he can’t really pretend to be mad.

“It’s only been a few weeks. And I’m home now. For good.” Hamilton responds.

“Do you think things will calm down now that the war’s over?”

Hamilton laughs. “My dear Burr, the war was only the beginning.” 

“But we have a government system already in place.” Burr insists. Hamilton has always been against the Articles, even though the country seems to be getting along just fine. If the government wants to fix things, though, let them. He’d rather not get involved.

“The Articles of Confederation are absolute _shit_ , and I would explain why if we weren’t in the middle of a reunion.” 

“A reunion, you say?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” 

And oh, he does. 

-

They pass the bar exam almost at the same time and get law offices right next to each other. They work on the first murder trial of the United States together. Hamilton may be an extremely difficult person to work with, given the fact that he never actually stops working and probably goes nine days without sleeping. But he’s also goddamn adorable, especially when he kisses Burr or falls asleep on Burr’s shoulder or in Burr’s office on the nights when Burr tries to make him get some rest.

A time when he is certainly not adorable, though, is when he knocks on Burr’s door at three in the morning. 

“Hamilton?” If Burr had a dollar every time he’d said that upon opening his door, he’d be the richest man in the nation.

Burr always thought Hamilton was completely daft, but he didn’t think Hamilton would go this far.

“What? Are you sure you’re in your right mind?”

“ _Yes,_ I’m sure. Burr, we fought to make America a country, we can’t back out now! We need to give her a stable government, and the Constitution is the best plan we’ve got so far. Please help me with this. The essays won’t be published under our names, we’ll use a pseudonym – I was thinking about using Publius again – and I already have someone else on board.” Hamilton explains, using wild hand gestures to punctuate his thoughts.

Burr shakes his head. “I’m going to step back and see how things go, Hamilton. Good luck with your essays. Goodnight.”

Hamilton scowls.

-

“Burr!” Hamilton exclaims, barging into his office.

“Knocking wouldn’t kill you, Hamilton.” Burr reminds him.

Hamilton just stares at him for a second, glaring, before he opens his mouth and starts talking. “I can’t _believe_ you!” 

What? Oh. Right. Hamilton holds up a newspaper that reads “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Senator Aaron Burr!”

“ _You changed parties to run against my father-in-law!_ ” Hamilton accuses.

“I changed parties to seize the opportunity I saw.” Burr responds coolly. “Not everybody likes you, you know.”

“What?”

“Oh, Wall Street positively adores you. But upstate? They think you’re insane. And they want a senator who supports the farmers as well as the bankers.” 

“I have spent my entire career fighting against Democratic-Republicans, and I should think _you_ would know that better than anyone!” Hamilton yells. “And you go and change your alliances just so you can have a place in the government.”

“Not everything is all about _you,_ you know. Your ego is going to kill us all one day.” 

Hamilton just glares daggers at him.

Burr stands and strides over to where Hamilton stands, his hands balled into fists at his side. He presses their lips together, surprised when Hamilton kisses back, but the kiss feels more like fighting than kissing. Burr thinks back to the war, when they could kiss because they were in love, and now look at them, fighting over every little political argument. 

How he wishes it could be simpler.

-

“How _could_ you, Hamilton?” This time it’s Burr’s turn to be angry.

“I don’t need this from you, too.” Hamilton replies, glaring icily past him. “I just need a place to stay while Eliza and I work all this out.”

Burr just gapes. “You cheated on Eliza, you cheated on _me_ -”

“Technically, I’ve been cheating on both of you for over seventeen years with each other, at your request.” Hamilton fires back. 

“But – but that was different.”

“How is it different? How is it different, Burr? It’s not like Eliza knew – or _knows_ about me and you! At least what I did with Maria is legal – at least I won’t be killed for it!” 

That stings, and Hamilton knows it. “I thought you loved me.” Burr responds.

“I do! Hell, Burr, I love you so much. I don’t know what came over me when I – when we – but I made a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”

“You’re absolutely insane, you know that? Over ninety pages, Hamilton. It was just a rumor, you could’ve let it go unnoticed.” 

Hamilton rakes his hands through his hair and it hangs limply around his face. It’s obvious he hasn’t slept in a day – days, even, maybe. “I just – I just need a place to stay until this all blows over.”

_Until, more like if,_ Burr thinks. Hamilton has just provided the nation with its first sex scandal. And Thomas Jefferson exists. He’s never going to let this go.

“I… I, sure, come in.” Burr may be absolutely furious and distraught, but he still loves Hamilton, and he can’t deny him a place to stay.

“Thank you,” Hamilton breathes, stepping in. He throws Burr an apologetic look over his shoulder, looking almost like he’s about to cry. Burr just nods.

-

“You endorsed _Jefferson_ over me?” Burr asks, in disbelief.

“Yes, I did.” Hamilton says.

“ _Why?_ ” Not only are Hamilton and Burr in love, Hamilton despises Jefferson with every ounce of his being. Why in the world would he choose Jefferson?

Hamilton glances down. “At least Jefferson has a firm political stance. Unlike some people.”

“But you hate him! And I’m – I’m your…”

“Burr, this isn’t a matter of who I have personal ties with. It’s a matter of who I believe can lead the country.”

Burr grits his teeth. “You despise everything Jefferson and his party stand for. Why would you want him in control of our country?”

“Because I know he won’t fluctuate to match what’ll make him more popular with the people. It’s not like you and I are best friends, either. You are also a Democratic-Republican, in case you’ve forgotten. And we’ve been disagreeing on things for thirty years.” Hamilton argues back.

“Sweet Jesus.” 

“Is there a reason you called me here, anyway?” Hamilton asks.

“Yes.” Burr pauses for a moment. This had been easier when he thought of this in his head. “I want to put an end to this.” This. Their arguing. 

Hamilton seems to catch on. “And how do you propose we do that?” He knows what Burr is going to say next and raises an eyebrow as if challenging him to say it.

“Weehawken. Damn. Guns drawn.” Burr responds.

A corner of Hamilton’s lips curves into a smile, but it isn’t Hamilton’s smile. It’s a smile devoid of emotion, a smile more filled with snark than glee. “You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> yikes


End file.
